White Rabbit: The Rise (The Kingmaker Saga Book 1) Page 7

“Then what would you have had me do?” Paxton exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

  The diplomatic thing to say would have been to, ‘Focus on the merger,’ or even, ‘Let me handle this,’ but instead, the first thing out of Uilleam’s mouth was, “Sit down and shut up.”

  “You can’t fucking speak to me like that.”

  One of his paid help stirred in the corner, but only for so long as it took him to remember Uilleam hadn’t entered this room alone. It only took a glance at Skorpion to remind him that a fight of any sort was not what he wanted.

  “Would you rather I coddle you? If I wanted to deal with children, I’d have one of my own.”

  “Gaspard said—”

  “If you would prefer to spend the next ten to fifteen years in prison, then, by all means, regale me with what Gaspard said.”

  Paxton made it far too much fun to get under his skin, but Uilleam’s continued presence here was anything but laughable. If he wasn’t careful, Paxton’s irresponsibility could blow back on him. Not that someone would suspect his involvement, but rather that all his hard work was in jeopardy.

  He hadn’t spent the past three years building his empire to watch it crumble because of a man like him.

  His business was his name.

  And the moment anyone thought he wasn’t capable of doing his job was when he would lose everything.

  “I think you’re forgetting something here,” Paxton said walking around his desk, getting as close as he possibly could before Skorpion cleared his throat—a silent warning that if he took another step, he would regret it. “Without me—”

  “Careful,” Uilleam said, the only warning he would ever give.

  “Without me,” Paxton continued recklessly, “you’ll get nothing. Gaspard wouldn’t look your way twice if I hadn’t called on him.”

  That’s where he was wrong, but Uilleam didn’t bother to correct him. He let the man believe what he wanted even though he knew the truth.

  That Paxton was an audition of sorts.

  One that would determine how Uilleam would end this year.

  No, he didn’t say a word, merely smiled at the man as he came to a decision in his head.

  Paxton’s first strike had been their first meeting together after he’d accepted the job. Par for the course, he had suspected he wouldn’t get along with the man simply because of the way he’d summoned him—leveraging his business relationship with a man to try to manipulate him.

  This was his second.

  Uilleam doubted very much he would get a third.

  8

  First Encounters

  The quiet hum of her phone made Karina groan as she woke slowly, the pillow resting over her face blocking out much of the noise, but as much as she wanted to ignore the call and drift back off to sleep, it was the second time it had rang in as many minutes, and she knew the caller wouldn’t be giving up anytime soon. After a moment of silent contemplation, she blindly reached out, shifting keys, a glass of water, and other bits on her dresser until she finally grasped the phone and connected the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this what you sound like when you fuck because if it is, I’ll try a little harder to get you in my bed.”

  Grumbling out a curse, she considered whether it would be in her best interest to end the call now before Orion could annoy her any further. “What do you want at”—she squinted as she pulled her phone away to glance at the too bright screen—“four in the damn morning?”

  “Doing what I said I wouldn’t.”

  “Leave me in peace to sleep?”

  “Help you get close to Uilleam Runehart,” he replied dryly.

  The name instantly sent adrenaline racing through her, and any chance of falling back asleep went right out the window as she sat up and shoved the tangled strands of her hair back out of her face. “How?”

  “Seems I’ve got your attention now.”

  She rolled her eyes, not caring that he wouldn’t be able to see it. “You knew you would. Now answer my question.”

  Maybe it was urgency in her voice or his own fascination with the man, but he stopped joking around. “Calm down. It’s not going to be what you think.”

  Whatever it was, it wouldn’t matter if he could do what he was suggesting. “What did you do, Orion?”

  “There’s a dinner in a couple of weeks–a fundraiser for whoever the fuck. Anyway, the guest list is full of your usual deep pockets, but they also invited a few people who I know for sure have been on Uilleam’s client list a time or two and a few more trying to make their way onto it. If they’re going to be there, I figure he will be too.”

  Two weeks.

  She didn’t doubt that what Orion told her was the truth. She knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t joke about something like this. Especially something he knew was important to her.

  He didn’t waste time with lies and misdirection.

  “Invitations are going to be impossible,” she muttered out loud, already considering the possibilities and the number of favors she would need to call in.

  And even that was a long shot.

  “Why do you think I’m calling, babe?”

  She smiled, even before she meant to. “Should I even ask how you managed this?”

  “Friend of a friend of an enemy. Small circles, ya know.”

  Sometimes, it felt that way, but she was often reminded that while everyone seemed to know the next criminal, no one knew everyone. She was counting on that.

  “So I’ve got an invitation and need a plus one. Know anyone available for me?”

  Now was her chance. “Pick me up at seven.”

  She might have been quick to agree to attend the dinner, but the event had quickly slipped Karina’s mind as she continued working and doing everything she could to further her investigation into Paxton.

  Between trying to get back into the good graces of her boss—who was slowly coming around and giving her less grunt work—she wasn’t at all prepared for a night out with people who would be dressed as if they were walking a red carpet.

  Her wardrobe consisted mainly of jeans and blouses, even a few blazers here and there—nothing at all that would be appropriate for a night like this.

  At first, she considered wearing the little black dress that hung in her closet ever since the paper’s 4th of July party, but after reviewing the guest list Orion had texted her a picture of, she knew the simple outfit would make her stand out in a bad way.

  And while she might have been living in NYC for nearly a year, she still wasn’t at all familiar with the numerous boutiques. But, she did know one person she could call, and while they were currently busy in Berlin, she knew they knew the city like the back of their hand.

  “As happy as I am to hear from you, you do realize it’s creeping up on midnight here,” Isla said, her voice carrying only the slightest traces of sleep.

  It didn’t matter that it was late where she was in the world, or that she probably had endless things to do the next day—because she always stayed busy—there was never a time when Karina called that she didn’t answer the phone.

  “I have a problem you can help me with,” Karina said, smiling as she listened to her sister’s voice.

  This wasn’t the first time they had gone more than a couple of months without speaking, caught up in their own lives, but just as she had before, that feeling of homesickness weighed heavy on her.

  Isla, if no one, else was what she missed most about being home.

  The pale pink cherry blossom trees that bloomed so prettily in the spring were a distant second.

  “Anything for you,” came her quick reply.

  As she had expected it to be. “I need a dress. Something formal, but easy-going. Nothing too ostentatious, but enough that the right person would notice.”

  One person in particular, but she didn’t bother to mention that to Isla.

  It wasn’t quite time for that yet.

  “What’s the occasio
n?”

  “It’s a fundraiser dinner.”

  Isla made a humming sound in the back of her throat. “The city’s elite, I imagine.”

  “From the more popular families, yes.”

  The ones with more money than they could ever spend in a lifetime.

  And after doing a little research, they were also some of the ones who liked to dip their toes in illegal activities, though it had yet to be proven.

  “Go to Shauney’s on 15th and tell Donna I sent you. She’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course.” She paused for a moment. “When was the last time you talked to Mother?”

  Karina grimaced as she stepped up to the edge of the sidewalk, raising her hand to flag down a cab. This was the one question she’d been attempting to avoid. “Not recently.”

  “Karina.” She managed to sound both admonishing and amused. “You know she requires check-ins … or would you just prefer she show her face? She’s not above that, you know.”

  Unfortunately, she did know. and while she hoped the latter wouldn’t happen, she still wasn’t ready to take her phone call.

  “Couldn’t you stall her for a bit?” Karina asked, breathing out a sigh as a taxi quickly switched lanes and pulled to the side for her. “I’m working on … something, and—”

  “Something interesting?” Isla asked, sounding more awake now.

  Karina slipped into the back of the cab, quickly giving the address to the man behind the wheel, but as she readied to explain everything that had happened over the past few weeks—months, really, considering how long she had been looking for Uilleam, though she hadn’t known it at the time—nothing came out. The mystery behind him had been such a well-kept secret of hers that she didn’t even work on what little she could gather about him until the wee hours of the morning though there was never anyone around to see what she was doing.

  He was also a man who she didn’t enjoy the thought of sharing with anyone just yet. It had become imperative for Orion to know, considering she had needed his aid directly, but she couldn’t imagine sharing anything with anyone else.

  Not until she had more.

  This was something she needed to sort through herself.

  “Not your sort of interesting, Iz,” she said quickly, hoping she wouldn’t push further. “Just a few bits at work.”

  “Careful,” Isla said oddly. “Your accent slipped a bit there.”

  Karina played back her words in her mind, thinking of what she’d said and realized the mistake she’d made. Anyone else might not have noticed her misstep, or at the very least, they would have thought she was watching a lot of BBC America television shows—which was accurate, all the same—but only Isla would pick up on something so minuscule.

  It was what she was taught to do.

  Both of them, really, though Isla had always been better at this sort of thing.

  From the moment she had arrived in New York and began a new life where no one knew her name or where she had come from, she had quickly adopted the accent around her.

  She blended in.

  It made starting a routine and slipping into everyday life rather easy, considering no one would ask about the accent she hid or why she had moved to the States at all.

  That would undoubtedly be the first question, and while innocent in nature, it was quite easily the most complicated one of all.

  “It’s because I’m talking to you,” Karina reminded her, staring out at the city around her as she ventured farther into the city. “And honestly, Iz, it’s been a year. You don’t expect me to lose it completely, do you?”

  “You’d do well to, but that’s neither here nor there. The one you’re using now works just as fine.”

  A noise sounded in the background, then a hushed, highly masculine voice spoke, and Isla murmured her reply. Karina didn’t interrupt, not when she didn’t know who Isla was in the room with.

  It might have been a boyfriend that she didn’t know about … or a leader of a foreign government.

  There was no telling with her.

  While she waited for her return, Karina paid the cabbie before climbing out and crossing the street toward the boutique with the minimalist sign hanging above the doors.

  “Sorry,” Isla said, returning to their conversation. “What were you saying?”

  “You were lecturing me about my use of a noun.”

  “I wouldn’t have to lecture you if you actually followed Mother’s rules instead of trying to rebel against them. The constant battle must be tedious by now.”

  Karina thought of responding and telling her that it wasn’t necessarily the rules she was refusing to live by—rules Isla followed nearly to a fault. It wasn’t tedious either, constantly seeing the differences between her and her family.

  While Mother worked steadily toward her goal of becoming a formidable opponent against men in her field, with Isla quickly following on her heels, Karina was content not to be a part of the family business.

  It wasn’t that she couldn’t do it, or even that she didn’t find the work interesting, but she didn’t feel the same calling to it as they did.

  A conundrum, considering what she did for a living.

  But it was one thing to learn all the bad things people did for the sake of money or power. It was something else entirely when she was the one actively participating.

  For now, however, it wasn’t something she needed to think about.

  “As much as I’d love to get into a discussion about that, I’m already running late.”

  Not to mention, she still needed to get home, shower, and do her hair and makeup. The longer she idled—or rather, avoided the topic of conversation entirely—the more time she was wasting.

  “Evasion won’t save you forever,” Isla warned. “You know she’s going to try to get you to change your mind.”

  Which was the exact reason Karina was avoiding her calls for the time being because she still hadn’t made a decision yet.

  “A dress, Iz. I need one.”

  Avoidance would only work for so long, but for now, it would do.

  At three minutes to seven, a heavy knock sounded on the front door.

  Though she had already been ready for a half an hour, Karina still double-checked her appearance in the full-length mirror resting against the wall next to the front door, making sure her makeup was impeccable and the wisps of hair that had fallen free of the loose bun she had twisted it into still looked nice.

  She was as ready as she would ever get.

  Taking a breath, she opened the front door to find Orion waiting for her.

  He might have been most comfortable in a pair of jeans and a leather jacket, but tonight he made quite the sight in an Armani suit with his dark hair combed and gelled into place. The dark auburn of the scruff covering his square jaw only added to his overall package.

  “You clean up nice,” she remarked with a smile, stepping out of her apartment and pulling the door closed behind her.

  “Yeah, maybe,” he agreed with a shameless shrug, but it was nothing compared to the way he shamelessly ogled her. “But compared to you …”

  No one could say Orion wasn’t charming—he was definitely that—but she was immune to his flirtations. Not to mention, a romantic affair was the last thing on her mind.

  Tonight was about work even as she was in a four-figure dress and similarly priced heels. It might have been the opposite of her usual casual attire when she went into work at the paper, but she still felt like the same girl.

  Once she had her door locked, Orion placed a calloused hand on the small of her back. Ever the gentleman as he led her down the flight of stairs to the first floor.

  Outside, a Rolls Royce idled at the curb, jet black with black rims and tinted windows. A boy who couldn’t be more than twelve years old stood next to the expensive car with his hands tucked into his pockets, his expression stern as if he dared anyone to approach the car.

&nb
sp; Spotting Orion, the look cleared as he straightened and gestured to the car. “Not a scratch on it, just like you said.”

  “Thanks for looking out,” Orion replied with a smile before he pulled a wad of bills out of his pocket and handed them over. “Spend it wisely.”

  The boy looked alarmed and seemed ready to shake his head and refuse the payment, but he never got the chance before Orion practically shoved the money at him and sent him on his way.

  As he opened the passenger door—that opened from the opposite side as opposed to a regular car—he met her gaze. “What?”

  “That was nice of you.”

  He shrugged, as if giving away more than a thousand dollars to a kid he didn’t know was no big deal. “Someone’s gotta look out for them.”

  Them.

  A street kid, she knew.

  Same as Orion had been once upon a time.

  She still remembered a story he had told her during one of their early lunches together. About how he had grown up as an orphan in the Bronx, bouncing from foster home to foster home before finally wagering he’d be better able to make it on his own than under the care of people who, “didn’t give a shit whether he made something of himself or not,” as he’d put it.

  Two types of criminals littered the world.

  Those like Paxton, who used their money and influence to take what they wanted without care of who they harmed in the process.

  Then there were those like Orion … doing what was necessary to survive, and while they might have caused some harm, they still tried to make up for it in some way.

  Slipping into the passenger seat, she inhaled the scent of leather and cologne as Orion hustled around to the other side and sat behind the wheel.

  As she reached for the door handle, Orion stopped her. “I got it.”

  Was he going to get back out and—

  With one press of a button, the door closed on its own.

  “Should I even ask where you got this car from.”

  He smirked. “You already know the answer to that.”

  Right.

  A friend of a friend of an enemy.

  Checking his side mirror, he pulled out. Resting his hand idly on the gearshift, he kept his gaze straight ahead.